Well, This Changes Things
by acgormy3
Summary: James Sirius Potter is synonymous with playboy and prankster, and nobody knows this better than Kate Turner. But will living and working with him 24/7 make her change her perspective? First fic
1. Last Day of Normalcy

**A/N:**

**Hey readers,  
So...I've been reading fanfiction for quite a long time now, and I thought it was about time I wrote one. I started this one a while ago, forgot about it, then revisited it not too long ago. I thought, what the hell, let's just publish it and see what happens.**

**R&R s'il vous plait? I appreciate your feedback!**

***acgormy**

**DISCLAIMER: I DONT OWN HP. If I did I would be rich and famous and done with school. If only...**

**Katie POV**

_**Chapter 1: The Last Day of Term**_

"Can you believe that next year we're graduating?"

"I know! It seems like just last week we were sorted! What happened to the time?"

"Would you lot stop getting all teary-eyed and help me find my bloody shoes?"

The sentimental conversation stopped as three pairs of eyes flitted over to the girl, who was frantically opening dresser drawers and pawing under beds looking for the shoes. I tried to stifle my giggles as the frenzied girl completely overlooked that they were sitting right on top of her trunk. Well, that's Summer for you. No, not the season; Summer Ross, my roommate and best friend #2. She's always been the disorganized, do-everything-last-minute type of person, which explains her annual harried search for possessions on the last day of term. Today was no different.

But what Summer lacked in organization, she made up for in looks. Tall, tanned, and curvy, she was the epitome of what guys drool over. That along with her long, shiny blonde hair and big green eyes that were always bright with laughter, she was probably the most sought-after sixth year girl at Hogwarts.

"You could use Accio," said the girl on the bed to my left, not looking up from her copy of _A History of Magic._ This was Grace McKinley, resident Gryffindor bookworm. Now, I fancy myself to be a bit of a bookworm, but Grace was in a league of her own. We both enjoy Muggle novels, but Grace reads them obsessively. And you know that book she's currently reading? _A History of Magic?_ Yes, that's a textbook. And yes, she's reading it for pleasure. Even I'm not that mental. Her incredibly curly jet-black hair was up in a bun with her wand (she claims she never loses it this way), and her piercing ice-blue eyes were travelling down the page at unthinkable speed. She had always been pretty quiet and kept to herself, but she was a fiercely loyal friend.

"Or," said another voice, "you could open up those bloody emeralds of yours and see that they've been sitting on your trunk for the past twenty minutes." This final voice belonged to Elle Robinson, my best friend since sitting in her compartment on the Hogwarts Express in first year. Yes, I was good friends with Summer and Grace, but Elle and I really clicked. She was leaning against one of the posts of the four-poster bed, hands behind her head, and watching Summer with an amused look on her face. She was of Asian descent, also with jet-black hair, but she kept it short with a pixie cut. Her dark brown eyes sparkled with laughter as she watched Summer straighten up and throw her a glare.

"Gee, thanks Ell-Bell. Couldn't have told me a bit earlier and saved me twenty minutes, eh?"

"I was bored, and you were entertaining." Elle said simply. Another thing about Elle; she always tells the truth, no matter how ugly. It's one of the things I love best about her.

I laughed at my friends' antics and hopped off my bed to do one final look-through of my own trunk. I'm not as disorganized as Summer, but I have been known to forget stuff, and not a summer has gone by where a Hogwarts owl hasn't arrived at my house bearing some small item that I'd left behind.

My name's Katherine Turner; Kate for short, Katie only among friends. I'm sort of in the middle of all my roommates. Average height, long curly brown hair, gray eyes, some freckles. Not a knock-out like Summer, not a complete bookworm like Grace, not a hipster like Elle, I'm just me. I am very smart, (except in stupid Ancient Runes. Why I took that class I'll never know) a tad disorganized and minorly attractive. You know. Pretty average for a sixteen year old girl.

"Katie…Earth to Katherine Turner!" Elle shouted at me, snapping me out of my reverie. Slamming the lid of my trunk shut and placing Artemis' (my owl's) cage on top of it, I cried "Locomotor Trunk!" causing it to float through the air and out the door of our dormitory. My roommates followed with their trunks.

Down in the common room, there was already a small mountain of trunks and pet cages assembled to be taken down to the train while we were at the end-of-year feast. After placing my stuff at the foot of the pile, I turned around and surveyed the common room. It looked quite strange without the usual sea of black and gray, because nobody was wearing uniforms or robes. There were only about six groups of people down there already, all sitting or standing in clusters and chatting animatedly about their summer plans or reminiscing about memories of the year.

Elle, Summer, Grace and I stood in a circle and chatted about meaningless nonsense for about five minutes before Grace's eyes lit up and she smiled and waved at someone behind me. "Mason! Over here!" she called. I groaned inwardly. Don't get me wrong, I like Mason (Grace's boyfriend) fine, it's his roommate and best friend I can't stand. James Potter. And since they're practically attached at the hip, I knew it was only a matter of moments until –

"Hey Turner. Miss me?" Potter came up behind me and draped an arm over my shoulders theatrically. Potter's had a bit of a crush on me since third year, and it's only gotten worse as the years progressed. Not only does he dramatically ask me out at least once a week, his antics have gotten to a point where no other blokes will approach me for fear of being jinxed.

"Oh yes," I deadpanned, stepping out from under his arm. "I've been simply counting the minutes until I could see you again, Potter." He smirked.

"Ah, Turner, I knew you loved me. It was only a matter of time." He said, running his hand through his shaggy black hair.

"Sod off, prick." I grabbed Elle's arm and dragged her to the portrait hole, calling back to Grace and Summer, "We're going to the feast. Try not to drag this lot down with you."

I could feel Potter's eyes on my retreating back, and turned around. His brown eyes were indeed fixed on me. He smirked and winked, running his hand through his hair again. I rolled my eyes and climbed through the portrait hole, my mind now fixed on the delicious fare awaiting us in the Great Hall. There really was nothing like a Hogwarts Feast.


	2. Summer Contemplations

James POV

Chapter 2: Summer Contemplations

As much as I love Hogwarts, home is one of my favorite places to be. As soon as I got off the Hogwarts Express and ran through the barrier back to King's Cross, I could see my crazily huge family waiting for me, Albus, Lily, Rose, Hugo, and the about fifty other Weasley/Potter cousins who were coming home from Hogwarts. I was one of the last off the train, so when I caught sight of the clan, they were already preoccupied with hugging the rest of the kids. As I approached, Dad caught sight of me and walked over to give me a hug.

"Good to see you, son. Had a good year?" Dad's green eyes met mine and he smiled.

"Yeah, dad. It was great." This was a slight lie. I was a little disappointed in the year. Oh, sure, I'd had fun and my grades were good, but a whole other year had gone by and Kate Turner still hated me. I mean, seriously, what is there to hate? I'm good looking, a Quidditch star, my dad's Harry Potter, and I've got tons of friends. Hmm…I might have to confront Lily and Rose about the inner workings of girls later today.

"James!" I heard my mother's voice before she bowled me over with a hug. I was a good six inches taller than her, and could easily see over her as she wrapped her arms around me. Over her head, I could see Kate with her small family. She hugged her father and mother tightly, and her brother as well before cuffing him over the head playfully. _She really is gorgeous_, I thought as Mum released me and gave me a kiss on the cheek before moving on to greet Hugo. Her hair shone in the sunlight, and I could see pieces of blonde and auburn amongst the brown. It curled gently down her back, and I could see her sharp gray eyes sparkling as she laughed with her brother. Looking her up and down, I relished the fact that she was in jeans and a fitted shirt as opposed to robes. She was thin without being skinny, and had just the right amount of curves. Merlin, she was perfect.

As though she could feel my eyes on her, Kate turned and looked right at me. I gave her a wave and a smirk. She raised her eyebrows at me and turned to leave with her family. _Oh well,_ I thought. _Could have been worse._

"James! Come on, love, we're leaving!" Mum called to me. I jogged to catch up with my retreating family, who were all holding hands so we could Disapparate to the Burrow, where the family always stayed during the summer.

* * *

The Burrow was more empty than usual this year. Victoire and Teddy were trying to keep things running at their flat, so they were unable to come. Uncle Percy had taken his family to Spain for the summer, Uncle Bill was away on a curse breaking mission and had taken Aunt Fleur, and Uncle George was working the joke shop with Aunt Angelina and had enlisted Fred and Roxy to help out. That just left me, Albus, Lily, Rose, Hugo, Dominique, Louis, Dad, Mum, Aunt Hermione, Uncle Ron, Gran and Granddad, and Uncle Charlie. I tell you, it's practically silent 'round here.

Weeks went by of playing four-a-side Quidditch, devouring Gran's excellent cooking, and causing general mischief with my siblings and cousins. I didn't have much time to think about Kate, but I allowed my thoughts to drift in her direction one night in early August, when the Hogwarts letters came.

A loud _thunk_ and a screech resounded throughout the house around midmorning. Aunt Hermione hurried over to the window and opened it, letting the tiny owl zoom through it, into the kitchen over to where Uncle Ron was sitting. The bird was bouncing up and down so much that he could hardly get the letters off the owl's leg.

"Calm down, Pig!" Ron shouted at the owl, which surprisingly looked like it was having no problem carrying the seven thick Hogwarts letters. When he finally got them untied, Pig took off upstairs to where the owls stayed.

"Rosie, here's yours," Uncle Ron tossed her letter to her. "Al, Dom, Hugo, Lily, Louis," he continued, "and James." He threw my letter way over my head, and it sailed into the family room before landing on the coffee table with a loud _clunk!_ I was puzzled. What could possibly be in there to make that sort of sound?

I rushed over to the coffee table and opened the thick parchment envelope. I turned it upside down, and out tumbled the usual slips of parchment, but along with it was a small silver badge. I picked up the badge, disbelief etched all over my face. There must be some kind of mistake…

"No. Bloody. Way." I turned around to see my family staring at me in shock. Lily, who'd spoken, had wide eyes and was covering her mouth with her hand. Albus' and Hugo's mouths were wide open, and Rose looked like she was about to burst out laughing.

"What is it, James?" Mum asked me, looking up from _The Daily Prophet_.

"I'm…I'm…" I trailed off, holding up the badge. Mum's eyes widened and she leapt up.

"_You're Head Boy!_ Oh James, I'm so proud of you!" She gushed as she hugged me tightly.

"Well done, son," Dad said, clapping me on the back.

"How the bloody hell did you get made Head Boy?" Lily exclaimed. Mum shot her a glare for cursing. "Of all people, McGonagall picked _you?_ The prankster?"

I shrugged, putting the badge in my pocket and walking back over to my plate of kippers. I would think about the badge later. Now, it was time for food.

* * *

Later that day, while lying on my cot in Uncle George's old room, I pulled the badge out of my pocket. It was small and silver, with "HB" engraved on it in large block letters. I knew there was no use pondering why I'd gotten it; nobody could come up with an explanation. So I busied myself with thinking about who the Head Girl would be. A smile crept onto my face as I thought.

But of course. Who else could it be? Besides that bookworm friend of hers, Kate was the highest in all her classes. She was a model student, did everything right, had never had a detention, and was on track to become the best Healer the Wizarding World had ever seen. She was the obvious choice.

My smile vanished as I compared the two of us. I suppose you could say I was smart, especially in Potions and Transfiguration, but I wasn't completely brilliant like Kate. My record of going without detention was three weeks. I was a prankster, talked back to teachers, and spent most of my time playing Quidditch. How on earth had I gotten the badge? _Oh well,_ I thought. _There must be some method to McGonagall's madness. _

The smile returned as I remembered that the Head Boy and Girl shared their own private dormitory. My insides twisted at the thought of living alone with Kate for the year. There was no way she could live with me and still hate me. She couldn't avoid me without completely shutting herself in her dormitory, and we had patrols and meetings that we were required to attend together. Maybe this whole Head Boy thing would be okay after all…

"James! Open up! We're having a Weasley Cousin Meeting!" I heard Rose banging on the door. "Come up to Al's room now!"

I sighed and got up off the cot, replacing the badge in my pocket. I trudged up the stairs to Al's room, where Rose, Hugo, Lily, and Al were all seated. (Somehow, Louis and Dom were left out of the loop). As I lowered myself slowly into the desk chair, Rose spoke up.

"Alright, let's see it." She said, holding out her hand expectantly. I fished out the badge and handed it to her. She examined it closely.

"Hmm. Seems authentic. You're sure it was your name on the letter?"

"Positive." I said, slightly annoyed. Did they think I would make something like this up?

Handing the badge back to me, Rose suddenly became business-like. "So, do you think you know who the Head Girl will be?"

"Erm, yeah," I said, running my hand through my hair nervously. "I was actually going to ask you about that…"

"You're thinking it's going to be Kate, aren't you?" Rose pressed further.

"Well," I said, "Who else would it be? I've been meaning to ask you about her anyway. How can I get her to like me? I won't be able to work with someone who hates me, and it's going to be bloody awful being in a common room by myself all the time if she doesn't want to see me."

"And you're still in love with her and you want her to like you." Lily added onto my list of reasons. I felt my face heat up and I glared at my going-on-fourteen sister.

"Well, the Weasley/Potter women are here to help you." Rose reassured me. "Now, we've all seen your behavior when it comes to Kate, and that's what scares her off. You'll need to try not to swagger around school all the time, and try to take this Head Boy thing seriously. And maybe you could try to just be friends with her instead of asking her out at every opportunity."

"I thought she'd be flattered that I asked her out all the time."

"I'm sure she was at first, but now she thinks it's just a game to you. You know, she's very proud of the fact that she's practically the only girl in school who can resist your looks and charm. She thinks you're only pursuing her because she's the only girl you haven't snogged yet."

"But," I said, "I really do have feelings for her! There is no other girl at school that affects me like she does."

"Then you need to show her." Rose told me gently, seeing my frustration. "Be more subtle. Smile, don't smirk. Don't stare at her chest or her arse. Maybe try calling her Kate instead of Turner. Be civil. Be her _friend_."

"How do you think I could handle being her _friend_ when I'm bloody in love with her?"

"Well," Lily added, "You might have to put those feelings on the down-low for a while until she comes around. You're likeable enough, I'm sure she'd enjoy being your friend once she sees the real you, and not the version of yourself you put up when she's around."

I leaned back in my chair, thinking, as Hugo added, "Then you can pounce when she least expects it!" Rose and Lily punched him on both arms.


	3. What in the Name of Merlin?

Katie's POV

Chapter 3: What in the Name of Merlin…

I had no idea who to expect as I walked down the corridor of the train toward the Head's Compartment. I'd been contemplating who the Head Boy would be ever since I got my letter saying I was Head Girl. After hours of thinking, I felt that there really wasn't one obvious choice. The boys who were good with their studies were either incredibly reclusive or total pricks, and the ones who were good leaders usually fell into that last category. And I wasn't sure there was even one seventh year boy, in any house, who had gone without a detention his entire school career. I thought maybe Duncan Ellis, (a tall black Ravenclaw who was an Arithmancy master and Quidditch Captain) or William Rodriguez (a fellow seventh-year Gryffindor who was alright at all subjects, Chaser on the Gryffindor team, and friends with almost everyone) might have a chance at the badge, but I couldn't know for sure until I got to the right compartment at the end of the train. As I reached it, I thought to myself that I would be alright with pretty much anyone being my fellow Head. Well, anyone except –

"Potter?" I took a step back as I saw the raven-haired boy lounging there. "What are you doing here? This is the Head's compartment!"

"I'm in the right place then." He grinned at me, pointing at the badge on his chest.

My jaw dropped. There it was, gleaming on his chest: a Head Boy badge. But how…?

"How the bloody hell did you get made Head Boy?" I exclaimed, still disbelieving.

"Funny, that's what my sister said," Potter muttered. "And close your mouth. You're catching flies."

I slowly shut my mouth, glaring at him. "You didn't answer my question."

"To tell you the truth? I haven't the foggiest. I guess McGonagall's gone ripe in her old age." He said, still grinning.

I hadn't really taken in his answer. I was still processing this unthinkable news. Potter? _James Potter?_ Who was McGonagall kidding? He was totally unfit for the position, and would turn into an even bigger prat once he had some power. Anyone with half a brain would be able to see that. Maybe he was right about McGonagall; it seemed to be the only logical explanation.

I sighed in defeat and sight down opposite him. He seemed to have grown a bit over the summer, and he looked a bit tanner. But his hair was still as shaggy as ever. He did have yet to run his fingers through it, though, which was a relief. It annoyed me to no end when he did that.

Potter took his legs off the seat and turned so he was completely facing me.

"Listen. Turn – Kate." I blinked at the use of my first name. He had only ever called me Turner.

He continued, "I've been thinking, and you know, it's going to be a nightmare of a year if you carry on hating me when we have to live and work together every day. I'm not saying we've got to be mates or anything, but could we at least be civil with each other? You know, maybe be acquaintances?" He offered his hand.

I was about to answer with an emphatic "No" when I thought about what he'd said. We did have to patrol every night and share a dorm, and it would be a living hell to spend that much time with someone I hated. I supposed I could tolerate him.

"I suppose." I said, shaking his hand. He smiled and – damn, there it was – ran his fingers through his hair before clapping his hands together and saying, "Well. Now that's done, why don't we think about those prefect patrols, eh?"

"Alright," I said, amused at his apparent eagerness. I pulled out my prefects schedule and said "I think we should keep the Slytherin prefects together. Do you agree?"

"Yeah," he agreed, nodding. "Nobody else will want to work with them. But we need to split up the Ravenclaws. Remember last term with Adams and Goldstein?"

I laughed as I remembered the very public breakup between the two Ravenclaws at the end of last year. Henry Adams ended it at breakfast, and Liza Goldstein had smacked him before running crying from the Hall. At lunch, Henry was stripped to his boxers and hanging by his ankle from the Great Hall ceiling, with Liza watching him triumphantly. It was hysterical.

"Yeah, good point." I added. "Wouldn't want to find Adams hanging half-naked in some corridor, would we?"

James chuckled. "So…we could put Adams with that Hufflepuff…Gonzales?"

"And then Goldstein can be with Watson."

The rest of the meeting went very smoothly. Goldstein and Adams were relieved that they weren't put together, and to my surprise, Potter actually seemed to be doing a pretty good job. It looked like he was finally taking something seriously for once. Maybe it wouldn't be _too_ incredibly horrible to work with him.

I just prayed I wasn't speaking too soon.

* * *

After the meeting ended and the prefects dispersed, I rushed back to the other end of the train to find my friends, because I had been late getting on the Express and hadn't seen them before going to the meeting. Thank Merlin I had sent my patronus (a kangaroo) ahead with the message of my reason for being late, otherwise Elle would have murdered me and made it look like an accident.

Of course, then they had to have their compartment all the way at the entire other end of the train, so I had to walk a bloody mile to get there. When I finally did, the witch with the trolley had come and gone, but there was an untouched pile of Chocolate Frogs and Pear Drops that my friends must have bought for me.

I barely had time to get through the door when Elle tackled me.

"Congratulations!" she squealed.

"Thanks…can't…breathe…" I choked out (she hugged really hard).

She released me and I went over to hug Grace and Summer. Grace had already changed into her robes and was reading a book called _The Hunger Games_. She seemed to have grown a little and there was a smattering of freckles over her nose from being out in the sun. Summer looked exactly the same.

"Head Girl…wow." Summer sighed, "Of course you were going to get it. Congrats, Katie!"

"Thanks," I blushed. "I really was hoping I would get it. Oh! Guess who the Head Boy is!"

"Rodriguez?"

"Ellis?"

"Potter."

Elle, who had been drinking pumpkin juice, choked. I thumped her on the back.

"Potter?" she spluttered. "How the bloody hell did he get made Head Boy?"

"That's what I said," I told her. "But he seemed to do an alright job with the prefects. I'll just have to wait and see how he is at patrols and stuff. I hope he won't turn into a creep now we have to live together."

"Wasn't he always a creep?" Grace asked, not looking up from her book.

"He was never a _creep_ creep." I said. "Yeah, he checked me out sometimes, but he never said anything vulgar to me or snuck into our dormitory or anything."

"Well, now that I think about it," said Elle, "He is a good leader. He's a great Quidditch captain. Maybe won't be so bad. And you know he loves you, he won't be a creep."

I leaned back in my seat, not wanting to ponder the situation any longer. "I guess we'll have to wait and see." I said, helping myself to a Chocolate Frog. I got Potter's dad's card. How ironic.


	4. And So it Begins

**A/N:**

**So there I was, continuing with this chapter, still having no idea where this story is going, when BAM! it hits me. I'm now super excited to finish this story. Summer assignments will have to wait...**

***acgormy**

**DISCLAIMER: HP belongs to JK**

**James POV**

**Chapter 4: And so it Begins…**

"FOOD!"

McGonagall had just sat down from giving the start-of-term speech, and the plates had begun to fill. I pulled a plate of lamb chops and a bowl of carrots toward me and began devouring. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Kate cutting up a piece of chicken and pouring gravy all over it. Her hair was in a long braid swept over one shoulder, and I chuckled when the end of it trailed in the gravy. She scowled at me.

I replayed our conversation on the train in my head. She seemed open to the idea of not hating me (although the glare she just sent me said otherwise). She had shaken my hand and had even asked my opinion with the prefect's schedules instead of taking over herself. That was an improvement, right? I tried to do everything Rose told me to do: smile, call her Kate and be serious about Head Boyship. I wonder if she'd noticed.

Before I knew it, the desserts were vanishing from the golden plates and I was feeling sleepy. I couldn't wait to go up to my good old four-poster bed and have a good nights –

"Potter," Kate appeared behind me and tugged on my sleeve, "We have to go see McGonagall. She's going to show us our dorm." _HOW COULD I HAVE FORGOTTEN ABOUT THAT?_ Well, at least I was wide awake now.

We fought our way through the crowd heading up to the dormitories to where McGonagall was standing waiting for us.

"Ah, well if it isn't our Head Boy and Girl." McGonagall looked through her spectacles at us and gave us a small smile. "I trust you sorted out the prefects schedules and got acquainted on the train? Although you two already know each other quite well, don't you?"

I looked sideways at Kate. Why was she blushing? We _did _know each other. We'd been going to school together for six years, for Merlin's sake!

"Well, as you know," McGonagall continued, "The Head Boy and Girl have their own private dormitory. I'll show you there now. Follow me Miss Turner. Mr. Potter."

Professor McGonagall showed us up to the sixth floor to a portrait of woman on a horse, looking like she was about to go into battle.

"You can come up with your own password." McGonagall told us. "I hope you find yourselves comfortable. You can tell me if you have any complaints." She walked away.

Kate looked up at me. "Do you care what the password is?"

"Not particularly. How about Godric Gryffindor? That's easy to remember." I said, shrugging.

"Alright. Godric Gryffindor." She told the painting, and it swung forward.

The layout of the common room was exactly the same as up in Gryffindor Tower, except there weren't as many squashy armchairs; only one red couch and two chairs situated around a small coffee table. There were two staircases up to our rooms, and a bathroom in the middle. I walked toward the staircase up to my room, and Kate followed, but turned right to go to her room.

_Wow, _I thought, _this is a nice room._ It was square and decorated with red and gold curtains along with a red and gold bed covered in pillows. There was a wardrobe and a desk and (they must have known I was coming) a stand for my brand-new Cleansweep Nineteen that Mum and Dad got for me for becoming Head Boy. The more I looked around the room, the more I liked it. Not only was Kate next door, but I wouldn't have to endure any snoring roommates! I totally scored.

Turning back to the door, I poked my head out to see if Kate was out there. She wasn't, so I contented myself with shouting at her closed door, "Goodnight, Kate!"

"Night, Potter."

* * *

My alarm woke me up the next morning with some random Weird Sisters Song. I stood up, stretched, left my room and headed toward the bathroom, only to find the door locked and the sound of water running coming from it. I had no idea how long it took Kate to shower (I'm not _that _stalkerish), so I ran back up to my room and grabbed my robes, shirt, pants, and tie before hurrying back down the stairs. Kate was still in there. I heard the water turn off, but the door still didn't open. I waited a few minutes before reaching out to knock, but she beat me to it by opening the door. She was in her uniform, minus the robes, and her hair was still damp. She was carrying her pajamas and a towel.

"It's all yours, Potter." She said before turning away to put her things in her room. I stepped into the bathroom and closed the door, only to be assaulted by a rush of heat and a heavenly scent.

It was an intoxicating mix of vanilla and cherry and jasmine and something else I couldn't describe. It smelt like Kate. I took a deep breath and told myself to always shower after her so I could smell her wonderful smell for a perfectly innocent reason.

I don't know how long I stood there, doing nothing but just breathing deeply, when my Kate-smell trance was broken by Kate herself, knocking on the door and shouting "Potter! Breakfast is half-over, you'd better hurry up in there if you want anything to eat!"

I checked my watch. Blimey, I'd been standing in there for near twenty minutes. I only had another twenty to change and eat if I wanted to get to History of Magic on time. _What's become of me? _I thought. _Actually wanting to get to __**History of Magic **__on time? This whole Head Boy thing is turning me into a stick in the mud._

With that thought, now I only had nineteen minutes. Well, I guess I wasn't showering today.

* * *

Not long later, I found myself in the History of Magic classroom, wondering why in the name of Merlin I had wanted so badly to get here on time. Professor Binns (yes, he was _still here_. I think he's gotten worse since Mum and Dad had him) was droning on and on about the persecution of merpeople in the 12th century, and I could feel myself slowly drifting off to sleep. I know! I could record his voice and listen to it the night before a Quidditch match! I could never sleep before matches, and his voice would be an instant insomnia-killer. I'm such a genius.

Three rows to the right and two seats ahead was Kate, who was scribbling frantically, in danger of breaking the tip of her quill. She appeared to be taking notes. I guess she was immune to the sleep-inducing qualities of Binns' monotone.

After what seemed like a lifetime later, (but really it was only an hour) the students who had made it to NEWT level were heading down to my favorite class: Potions. Dad told me I was lucky that I was good at Potions, but that I was even luckier to have a nice professor. I knew all about Snape, obviously, and how he had tormented Mum and Dad when they were at school. So I counted my blessings as Professor Pullman walked into the room. He was probably the coolest teacher at Hogwarts, after McGonagall.

"Welcome to NEWT Potions!" Pullman practically shouted at us, he was so excited. "We're going to get right down to business. Since this is a double period, we're going to brew for the first half, and talk about a long-term project for the second half. Everyone take out your potions kits."

There was a rustling as everyone pulled them out of their bags. Once they were all out, Pullman waved his wand and words started appearing on the blackboard.

"You have one hour to brew the Pepperup Potion. And if Madam Pomfrey deems them hospital wing-worthy, you'll get extra credit. Begin."

* * *

As the second hour of class started, Pullman went up to the front of the class to tell us about the project.

"You will be in pairs," Pullman said, looking at us all through the rising steam of our finished potions, "and you will brew an NEWT level potion that I will assign. You will also complete an essay about the history of the potion and its modern uses."

At that, everyone started looking around the room, mentally figuring out who they most wanted to be partners with. Pullman always paired boys with girls, to "allow the two sexes to work together in a productive way," which everyone knew was a load of bollocks. It was common knowledge that he fancied himself a matchmaker.

"The partners are," he continued, pulling out a piece of parchment, "Robinson and Caldwell, McKinley and Brown, Pellicano and Ellis…" He continued naming a few more pairs before –

"Turner and Potter."

The Hallelujah Chorus started playing in my head and my stomach did a million somersaults. I had heard him properly, right? He had just done _exactly _what I had prayed for him to do? Just to make sure, I stole a look at Kate. She was wearing an unreadable expression, and was chewing on the inside of her cheek, looking at Professor Pullman as though she wasn't sure what to think.

"Go on then," Pullman said, "Go on and sit with your partners."

It was then that Kate finally looked at me. Her eyes told me that she wasn't moving, so I picked up my bag and walked over to her table, sliding onto the bench next to her. Now she was looking up at Pullman, who was handing out slips of parchment to everyone with what potion they were going to brew. He handed ours to Kate, who took one look at it, then slid it over to me before promptly covering her face with her hands and resting her elbows on the table, groaning.

What potion could possibly garner that reaction? It couldn't be that bad, could it?

But I took one look at the piece of parchment and understood. There, in the professor's loopy handwriting, was one word.

_Amortentia_

Oh, bloody hell.


	5. Epiphany

**A/N:  
This chapter took FOR FREAKING EVER to write. I knew what I wanted to have happen, but I just had no idea how to put it into words. I'm pretty happy with it, and it's even longer than usual. So...yeah. Enjoy!**

***acgormy**

**Katie POV**

**Chapter 5: Epiphany**

Why did Pullman have to pair me with Potter?

_Why _did Pullman have to pair me with Potter?

Why did Pullman have to pair _me _with Potter?

Why did Pullman have to pair me with _Potter_?

Wasn't it enough that we were both Heads, had to share a dorm and had to see each other practically every minute of every day? Nope, apparently not. And on top of all that, we had to brew stupid, bloody Amortentia, one of the most difficult to brew in the world, and the fact that it was a love potion was just going to be awkward.

As you can see, I was having a very bad day.

Wait, no. Scratch that. It had been a wonderful day until Potions. I had woken up in my beautiful new dormitory, had a lovely long shower, and had a great breakfast. Even History of Magic was enjoyable, because that's when I got to write.

Everyone assumed I actually paid attention and took notes in History of Magic. They couldn't be more wrong. I had never _really _cared about the class. I really didn't see how it mattered that Lichtenstein didn't join the International Confederation of Wizards right away, or that wand legislation contributed to goblin riots of the eighteenth century. I think I may have paid attention the first week of first year, and then completely tuned out the monotonous ghost teacher. Instead, I wrote during the hours of class. I would write stories; continuing long ones I had been writing for years or just short summaries about characters that would pop into my head. Sometimes I would play games with myself; I would look around the classroom, and the first person I saw sleeping, I would write a one-page fantasy story about them. I had to change my choose-a-person system occasionally though, because if I used the sleeping method, inevitably I would end up writing stories about Potter.

Usually I made him get eaten by a dragon or something equally horrific.

The only person who knew about my passion for writing was Elle. I didn't want to tell my parents, because they would tell me off for taking time away from my studies to do something "frivolous and unproductive" (in the immortal words of my father). I didn't want to tell Summer or Grace, because they would want to read my stories, and I knew I would be embarrassed. I didn't want anyone to know, really.

Anyway, back to the explanation of my great-turned-horrible day.

It had been such a brilliant story that morning, and I was in a great mood as I made my way down to the dungeons. I suppose my Pepperup Potion could have been better (It was supposed to be red, but mine turned out orange. Only one shade off!), and then Professor Pullman had to go and ruin my day by giving me the worst partner in the history of partners for a three-month long project. At least Potter was good at Potions, but now I was going to have to spend even more time than I already needed to working with him. Brewing a bloody love potion.

Dammit, Pullman.

* * *

When the bell finally rang, I packed up my stuff at world-record speed and bolted out the door before Potter had even left his seat. I prayed to Merlin I could make it to the Great Hall for lunch and get to the sanctuary of my friends before he caught up with me.

"Hey, Kate! Wait up!"

Apparently, Merlin wasn't on my side today, either.

I sighed in defeat and slowed down, allowing him to catch up with me. "What do you want, Potter?"

He looked a little confused. "I'd have thought that was obvious. When do you want to get started brewing our potion?"

I sighed again, not wanting to think about it. "Why don't we meet in our common room after dinner?" I told him. "We can figure out how to work around schedules and stuff."

He seemed to sense I was not in a very good mood. "Don't you worry, Kate," he said, patting me on the shoulder, "this whole project is going to go brilliantly. We're going to make the best Amortentia Pullman has ever seen."

I couldn't even pay attention to what he was saying, because the moment he touched my shoulder, tingles raced down my arm. What the bloody hell…?

I acknowledged his encouragement with a distracted "Right," then surged ahead of him into the Great Hall. I spotted Elle, Summer, and Grace in a cluster at the Gryffindor table, and hurried over to them, sliding onto the bench next to Elle, only then realizing just how hungry I was.

"How was Potions?" asked Summer. She wanted to be a Curse-Breaker for Gringotts, so she hadn't moved on to NEWT level Potions. "Grace and Elle told me you got paired with Potter for some project."

I grumbled something unintelligible in response, not looking up from my steak-and-kidney pudding. Summer seemed to understand.

"Well, he's good at Potions, right?" She said encouragingly. "At least you're not with some idiot. And he'll be fine to work with." When I didn't respond, she added, "Come on, Katie. If you think it's going to be terrible, then it will be. You have to stay positive!"

I really couldn't find anything positive about the situation.

After lunch I made it through double Transfiguration and Herbology without any more traumas.

* * *

That night, I sat in the common room, working on Transfiguration review, when Potter marched through the portrait hole and plopped down in the chair next to me, setting his bag on the floor. He sighed in contentment that the school day was done, and leaned back in his chair, placing his hands behind his head.

I practiced the wand movement for the Vanishing Spell a few more times before stowing my wand in my bag. I glanced up to find Potter looking at me.

"What?"

"You know," he said, still leaning back in his chair, "I'm really glad Pullman paired us up, Kate. I think we'll make a great team."

I snorted slightly at this. He would think that. He continued to observe me as I pulled out my History of Magic textbook and folder to work on the two-foot long essay Binns had assigned us on vampire revolutions of the nineteenth century.

I had written about six inches when I realized how uncomfortable I was. The sleeves of my robes kept falling down my arms from where I had rolled them up, the tag of my shirt was itchy on my side, my tie was too tight around my neck, and my shoes were constricting my feet. The school day was done; I needed to get out of this godforsaken uniform. Sighing, I left Potter, who was fiddling with his quill, and took the stairs two at a time up to my dormitory.

I stripped off my uniform as fast as I could, not even bothering to fold it and put it in the wardrobe; everything just lay scattered on my bed. I put on an old crew neck sweater and pajama shorts, threw my hair into a ponytail, and went back down to the common room.

There, I found one of my worst nightmares.

Potter had apparently decided to start his History of Magic essay as well. Having no notes of his own, he decided to paw through my folder of notes.

Or what he thought was a folder of notes.

I walked down the stairs to see James Potter rifling through all the stories I had ever written during History of Magic; from the one I had written this morning all the way back to the second week of first year. I saw red as I sprinted down the last few steps.

"POTTER!" I shrieked. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" I snatched the folder up from the table, holding it tightly to my chest. I could feel my face turning beet red.

The prat didn't even have the grace to look guilty. "I just wanted to start my History of Magic essay," Potter said, defensively, "and thought you would have better notes than me."

I didn't want to explain myself, so I took the opportunity to throw an insult at him; it just came naturally. "You don't even take notes during History of Magic."

"Apparently, neither do you. Did you write all those?" He asked, gesturing to the folder.

The part of my brain that wanted to know what he thought of the stories, the one that wanted to continue screaming at him, and the one that wanted to hex him into next week had a silent war with each other in my head. After a few seconds, they settled for making my face turn even redder and giving a small nod.

"Really?"

Did he have to make me elaborate? I wasn't going to that easily. "Why?" I asked.

"I didn't know you could write!" He exclaimed. "Those are really good! I mean, I could have used less of me dying grisly deaths, but…how come you never told anyone? How come you never let anyone read them?"

"Well, you – "

Hang on.

My mouth had already started forming an insulting retort when I my brain registered what he'd actually said. And it hadn't been an insult. So I switched gears in the middle of my sentence.

"Well, you – wait. You actually liked them?"

He nodded. "Like I said. Maybe if you'd killed off Avery Goyle in every story instead of me, I'd have liked them more, but the writing's really very good!"

…

Well.

Wasn't expecting that.

My face was still red, but now I was blushing for a different reason. It felt good to be praised for something besides good marks for once; this was something I was actually proud of. I mean, I'm proud of getting good grades, but I'm not exactly passionate about Transfiguration and Herbology, if you know what I mean.

At the same time, it felt weird to be blushing because of praise from James Potter.

He took a hesitant step forward and put a hand on my shoulder, looking me straight in the eye. Those damn tingles went shooting down my arm again. I really needed to look into that.

"I think you should let people read them." He said, completely straight-faced and serious. "I think people would like them, I really do."

I gave a small smile and blushed even harder. I still didn't say anything. I was still processing the information that someone actually liked my stories. Potter took his hand off my shoulder, gave me a small smile, gathered up his things, and proceeded upstairs to his dormitory. It was only until he had almost vanished from sight that my vocal chords seemed to function again.

"James?" I called after him. He reappeared on the staircase.

"Thanks." I said, somewhat sheepishly, still blushing. He grinned from ear to ear.

"No problem." He said. I smiled, and he continued up the stairs. I heard his door open and shut, and then it was just me in the silent common room, smiling and red-faced, clutching a folder full of used-to-be-secret stories.

* * *

Lying in bed that night, I could only think one thing.

Well, this changed things.

I was positive the James I knew last year would not have had the reaction he had had only half an hour ago. I guess he really had changed. The more I thought about it, the more I knew I was right. He'd been taking his Head Boy duties seriously, had been proactive if not eager about getting started on the Potions assignment, and hadn't flirted or asked me out once.

Then there were those damn tingles. Those had certainly never happened before. I didn't even want to think about those.

Just as I was about to drift off to sleep, one more thought entered my mind.

I'd called him James.

That was new.


	6. Scents and Sensibility

**Katie POV**

**A/N:**

**SWITCHING IT UP! WHAAATT?  
And I'm ever so sorry it took me forever to update. With school starting and volleyball every day, it takes up a lot of time. And then there are all the summer assignments I put off...hehe**

**Also, it took me a while to figure out this chapter. I wanted to put in a James POV chapter in between this one and the last one, but it was just going to be a super short, awkward transition. So I deleted that one. Then I was just not inspired to write whatsoever for a while. Then I was like, "Hey, you know there are these cool people out there who actually read this story, so you should probably give them something sooner or later..."**

**To make a long story short, SORRY ABOUT THE DELAY. I PROMISE I WILL FINISH THE STORY.**

***acgormy**

**Chapter 6: Scents and Sensibilit**

I guess it went without saying.

We'd silently moved from acquaintances to friends, and everyone else had either accepted it or just not even noticed.

And I was perfectly okay with that. We didn't have to make it official or anything. It wasn't like we'd started dating or anything, for Merlin's sake! (Although I still had yet to figure out those tingles).

But I was really enjoying myself. James was hysterical, and he was smart; really great at helping me with Transfiguration. And we were working brilliantly together on the Amortentia.

We slowly settled into a routine. I would write my story in History of Magic, like always. But instead of stowing it away, never to look at it again, I would keep it out and slip it into James' bag as he walked with his other friends to Transfiguration or Charms or whatever, and then we would talk about it in Potions as we started brewing our Amortentia. He always liked the stories, but he would make small suggestions about what I should write about next or how to put a twist into a plot. One day, he had a very specific suggestion.

"You should write about a kid whose parents are killed, then has to go live with his mean aunt and uncle." He began eagerly as he watched me measure powdered dragon fangs. "Then he finds out he's a wizard, and goes to Hogwarts and has all sorts of adventures."

"You seem to have given that one a great deal of thought." I replied, not looking up from my measuring cup. "Anyone in particular you want me to write it about?"

"My dad."

I nearly dropped the cup. I'd forgotten! Of course, James' dad was Harry Potter! Everyone knew his story, at least the beginning and the end bit of it. The part in the middle had travelled by word of mouth, passed down through the generations of Hogwarts students. I'd heard snippets of stories about Sorcerers Stones and Triwizard Tournaments and prophecies and giant spiders and a whole slew of other things ever since my first day here. I was surprised it had never been written down.

"What?"

"Well, I mean," he said, hastily explaining, "Mum's always said that he should write about all the stuff he did when he was here and all the stuff with Voldemort and all that. But he's always said it'd be too much for him to write, and he's too busy with the Auror office. And he's lazy." I chuckled at that. "But I think it'd be cool if you wrote about him! He'd love for someone else to do it, and you'd do a great job!"

I didn't know what to say. Of course I was flattered that James thought I should be the one to write about all his dad's antics and adventures (I'd finally figure out which bits were true!), but did that mean that James wanted me to, like, come to his house and meet his parents and have his dad tell me seven years worth of stories?

Merlin, I thought. I was reading between lines that didn't exist. All he was saying is that I was a good writer, so I'd be a good candidate for writing about his dad. No deeper meaning. Nope. None. No ulterior motives here_._

So why did I feel a twinge of disappointment?

* * *

I can honestly say I had never been more excited for a Potions class than I was on a Thursday at the beginning of October. I was so giddy that I couldn't even focus on writing during History of Magic. All I could do was fidget and bounce around in my chair, looking up at the clock so often that it seemed to not be moving at all. When the bell finally rang a few years later (well, it seemed like it), I practically sprinted down to the dungeons.

Why was I so excited? Well, I'll tell you.

Amortentia takes for bloody ever to make. You put all the stuff together, then it has to brew on very specific heats for about four months. That's right. Four months. I mean, you add some stuff at various increments along the way, but you can pretty much ignore it until it's fully matured.

But the thing is, the unusual aromas start to come out after only one month. We'd started brewing at the beginning of September. It was now the beginning of October. Professor Pullman said today would be the day we would most likely start to smell the scents that make Amortentia so unique. I couldn't wait to figure out what I would smell. I could hardly contain myself.

"You look like you're about to wet yourself."

I jumped. I hadn't heard James come in. I suppose I did look a bit ridiculous; I was bouncing up and down in my chair, hardly containing my glee.

"Shut up, you." I said, punching his arm. "I'm just excited is all. I want to see what I'm going to smell!"

After clutching his arm in mock hurt, James sat down, saying "Yeah, me too. I remember seeing it at the beginning of last year, but Pullman ran out of time and couldn't show it to us."

It was Pullman's strict rule that you couldn't open your cauldron until he said you could, so we had to sit on our hands so as not to tempt ourselves until everyone filed in and Pullman said we could continue. Now I was slightly nervous. What if I smelled something I didn't expect, or learned something about myself I totally hated, or something horrific like that?

James seemed to share my hesitation. He looked sideways at me, and taking in my expression, said "Ready, Kate?"

I nodded. I put my hand on the lid of the cauldron, ready to open it "Ready?" I asked. He nodded as well. "One, two, three!" I opened the lid and inhaled.

There was nothing at first, but as soon as the pearly steam reached my nostrils, I felt as though I could sit here for the rest of my life, just breathing, and be perfectly happy. I could simultaneously make out the scents of salt water and seaweed on the coast, the musty smell of an old book, and…something else I couldn't place…it smelled warm and comforting…like a million hugs all condensed into one sniff (sorry if it sounds lame. That's the only way I can describe it!).

Suddenly, there was a loud _clank, _and the beautiful aroma was cut off as the lid was put back on our cauldron. I looked over at James to protest, but he was shaking his head, trying to clear it from the haze he had just been in. He hadn't closed the cauldron. I looked up slowly to see Professor Pullman looking down at us, his eyes bemused behind his wire-rimmed glasses.

"Potter, Turner," he told us, reprimanding, "You know you're not supposed to smell Amortentia for very long. You're lucky I cut you off when you did. You'd have sat there for hours and not been able to pull yourself away. You're lucky you're still in your right minds." Then he promptly took our cauldron off our table and marched away to his office to store it.

Looking around, I realized that this was probably a good thing. People had been looking up from brewing their Felix Felicis and Veritaserum and Polyjuice Potion to let the fumes from our cauldron waft in their direction. Nobody had made any progress on their potions in the last fifteen minutes.

After everyone had cleared their heads and gone back to their potions, I sat and thought about what I had smelled. The coast made sense; we stayed in a cottage in the south of France on the Mediterranean for a while every summer. Of course old books would be in there, I'm such a bookworm I didn't expect anything less. But that third smell…that was something else. I couldn't place it and it was driving me mad. I racked my brains, trying to remember ever smelling something like that before. I'm pretty sure I would have remembered. Could Amortentia make you smell something you had never smelled before? I wasn't sure.

James appeared to be deep in thought as well.

"What did you smell?" I asked abruptly. What? I was curious!

He was pretty zoned out, so it took me a few tries to snap him out of it.

"Huh?" He asked, shaking his head. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"What did you smell?" I repeated.

His cheeks colored slightly. (James blushing? That was new.) I guess it was pretty personal. I suddenly felt like a fool for asking, so I backtracked. "I mean, you don't have to tell me…I was just curious. Sorry." I finished lamely.

"No, it's alright." He said, his face returning to its normal color. "I'll tell you if you tell me."

"Okay," I said. "I smelled the place we always stay in France, books, and…" I trailed off.

"What?" He asked.

"Well," I began, "I can't figure out the third smell. I don't think I've ever smelled it before."

"That's strange." James said, frowning. "I don't remember reading anything in the books about that."

"Yeah…strange." I said. "Oh well. I guess I'll tell you if I ever figure it out." He smiled. "What about you?"

"Oh, yeah. Erm, there was my grandma's kitchen, the grass on the Quidditch field, and…that's it." He finished, blushing again.

"Aren't there usually three smells?" I asked him. This wasn't prying, was it? No, not at all. "C'mon, you can tell me."

"Nope." He said, forcefully. "Just those two. Positive." He was still blushing furiously.

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at him. He was lying. I was positive. But I wasn't going to press him any more than I already had. Besides, I had other things on my mind.

Like figuring out what that last smell was.

And those tingles.


	7. Improvisation

**James POV**

**Chapter 7: ****Improvisation**

**A/N: Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been ALMOST FOUR MONTHS since my last update.**

**I am truly, truly a horrible person, and I apologize deeply. School and sports are a bitch, and I guess for a while there I just wasn't inspired and didn't have any ideas, and I wasn't going to write crap just so you guys could have an update. I like you guys too much to write crap.**

**I hope you accept my apology. Can we still be internet friends?**

**Consider this your…late Christmas/Hanukkah present.**

**Happy 2013, my lovelies!**

***acgormy3**

I guess you could say my life was better than it had been in a long while. Actually, my life was pretty much exactly as it had been the past few years, with the exception of one very large addition.

_KATE WAS MY FRIEND!_ Do you know how long I've waited for this? Do you know how long I've waited for her to be able to spend more than ten minutes with me without hexing or storming away in an angry huff? This was amazing. Not only that, but she had shared with me something about herself that she had only ever shared with one other person. I guess she didn't really have much choice, considering I found all her stories, but it vastly expanded the things we got to talk about. I had been completely serious when I said she should write down everything that happened to my dad. It would be a huge undertaking, and nobody could deal with that better than Kate.

Of course, there was still that whole "I'm-in-love-with-her" thing I had to deal with, but it had only been two months. It was nice now; she actually laughed with me instead of at me, and would punch me playfully instead of in fury. So until a little more time passed, I was content to be friend-zoned for a little while. It was better than the alternative.

There was just one small problem.

There was a Hogsmeade trip on Halloween, just five days away. I wanted more than anything to ask Kate, but I was afraid it would jeopardize the easy friendship we had going at the moment. If I asked her with the same bravado as I used to, she would think I was reverting to my old ways, and that this whole friendship thing was just a game to me, which it bloody well wasn't.

But what if I just asked her as a friend? Granted, we'd been friends for all of a month and a half, and that short-lived of friendships usually don't result in Hogsmeade trips together, but at this point I was desperate. I just wanted to spend more time with her. Maybe I could just ask her if she wanted to grab a Butterbeer, in the middle of the day or something. Yeah, that could work.

Step One of Mission Casually Ask Out Kate commenced the next morning at breakfast, with T-minus four days until the trip. She had gotten up quite a bit earlier before me this morning, and had already showered and left the dormitory before I pressed the snooze button on my alarm for the fifth time. I quickly showered and dressed, taking extra care to get all my nervous hands-running-through-my-hair out of my system before I got to the Great Hall. I did it purely out of nerves, but I knew Kate hated it.

As I walked through the corridors, all I could do was worry. What if she thought I'd been nice to her just to get her to say yes for once? What if she hated me after this?

_Calm down, idiot_, a voice in my head told me. _You must have done this a hundred times. She's not any different than the others. _

But she is, I thought as I finally made my way into the Great Hall. I sought out Kate at the Gryffindor table, chatting animatedly with her three friends and a smile gracing her face. Luckily, my friends were seated at the far end of the table, so I could make it look like I was just stopping by on my way to sit with them.

I quietly walked up behind her. Her two friends, Grace and Summer, were sitting across from her and could see me. I made the shh-ing motion so they wouldn't alert Kate to my presence. Putting my face right next to her ear, so close I could smell her perfume, I said "Boo."

She jumped a good six inches off her seat.

"Bloody hell!" She shrieked as she turned around, startled. I smirked as she narrowed her eyes at me. "I'll get you for that one, Potter. Mark my words." She said, lowering her voice, trying and failing to sound frightening.

"We back to surnames, now, Turner?" I retorted, raising my eyebrows playfully.

She laughed. "No, James. Of course not." Turning back to her potatoes and kippers, she asked "What's up? Why the dramatic entrance?"

Now was the time to get nervous. Hoping I didn't sound it, I said, as casually as I could muster, "I was just wondering if I could talk to you for a minute."

That got her attention. She turned back around, curiosity all over her face. "Sure," she replied. "Be right back." She said to her friends before getting up from the bench and following me out of the hall.

I just led her to the side of the Entrance Hall. I didn't want to bring her to a secluded corner or anything. That would make it too serious. "Just wanted to remind you that we're actually adding more stuff to the potion today. We're not just working on the essay."

She raised her eyebrows. "You scared three years off my life, and took me out here just to tell me that? A bit much, don't you think?"

"And one more thing," I continued, nervously, fighting the urge to run my hand through my hair. "Do you want to, maybe, grab a Butterbeer at the Hogsmeade trip on Saturday?"

I couldn't read her face for about five seconds. Scariest five seconds of my life, and I've been in the middle of Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione's rows.

She finally gave me a sad little smile.

"Oh, James, I'm so sorry," she began apologetically. "I'd really like to, but someone already asked me earlier this morning."

That was almost worse than just a flat-out no. Everyone had known that Kate was my territory for almost the past five years. And now she wasn't. And now I was too late. She was going to go to Hogsmeade with what's-his-name, fall in love, get married, have children, and live happily ever after while I looked on and stayed single for the rest of my life because I could never get over her.

_Whoa there. _The voice in my head was back again. _Slow down there, cowboy. Exaggerating much? It's one date, and maybe she won't even like the guy._

I was jerked back to reality by the feeling of Kate's hand touching my arm. I must have been zoned out.

"Could I take a rain check?" she asked quietly, still smiling apologetically.

I sighed. "Yeah, I suppose." I said, finally succumbing and running my hand through my hair. "If you don't mind me asking, who asked you?"

"Ellis. You know, the Ravenclaw?"

Yes. Yes I did know the Ravenclaw. Duncan Ellis was the genius who was going straight to the Ministry without even taking NEWTs. But he was also the Quidditch captain who was cocky and always tried to break my hand when we would shake hands before matches.

"Yeah," I sighed again. "Well, have fun, I suppose." I finished, and I walked, defeated, back into the Great Hall.

If only I'd gotten there earlier, I thought as I drowned my sorrows in chocolate chip pancakes.

I should have stopped after the second snooze.

* * *

The four days until the Hogsmeade trip passed in a blur of trying not to talk about it. I acted as though I had never asked Kate out, and she followed suit. We fell easily back into the banter and conversations we'd been having before.

Saturday dawned bright and cold. The trees bypassed red and orange and were now turning brown. Winter was definitely on the way. The Hogsmeade trip was set for 10:00 am, and I was up (no snoozing this time) at 8:30. I wasn't exactly sure why, as I didn't need to try to get ready for anyone. I just threw on some jeans and a sweater, grabbed by cloak and scarf, and went down to the Common Room, spending a great deal of time just gazing into the fire. I didn't even realize what time it was until I heard Kate coming down the stairs from her dormitory.

"Hey." I heard from behind me.

"Hey." I responded, turning around. She looked very pretty, having put more effort into today than usual. Her hair looked curlier; she was wearing more makeup than usual, and was wearing a peacoat instead of the usual cloak.

After a few seconds of awkward silence, Kate started toward the portrait hole, saying over her shoulder, "Maybe I'll see you there?"

The portrait hole slammed before I got the chance to answer. "Yeah. Maybe." I whispered to nobody.

We finally got out the doors after a long and tiresome wait (Filch was getting crankier with age). I was walking next to Mason, my best friend, and on his other side was his girlfriend, Grace. I had been relegated to being a third-wheel (oh the pain!). I didn't see Kate and Ellis anywhere. I wasn't expecting to. I just hoped for Kate's sake that he didn't drag her to Madam Pudifoot's Tea Shop. I was surprised that place was still in business, with the reputation it had.

I followed Grace and Mason into Dervish and Banges, then to Zonkos (we always saved Honeydukes for last). When we finally decided that we couldn't fit anymore frog spawn soap into our pockets than we already had, we headed toward the Three Broomsticks. Warmth washed over us as we walked through the door, and as I removed my scarf, I spotted Kate and Ellis in a booth across from the bar. Kate was facing me, and she looked, dare I say it, bored? I kept watching her, and it looked like Ellis wasn't letting her get a word in edgewise. She must have felt my eyes on her, because she looked up suddenly and looked me straight in the face. My heart leapt. Her eyes were wide as she mouthed something to me. _Save me._

I had to have mis-lip-read.

I raised my eyebrows questioningly at her. She did it again, more exaggerated this time, with a pleading look on her face, before quickly flicking her eyes back down to Ellis with a smile and a nod before he noticed.

I tapped Mason on the shoulder and told him I'd be right back (he wasn't paying much attention to me anyway), and headed over to their booth. As I reached it, Kate looked up at me with a look of relief, while Ellis scowled.

"Can I help you, Potter?" he growled at me.

"Actually, no." I responded, keeping my tone light. "You can't. But Kate can. You see, we're working on a long-term Potions project together, and we're brewing a very tricky potion. It takes more than four months to brew. And we have to add some stuff to it along the way, and since today is the day of the full moon of the second month, we've got to go work on it. I'm sure you understand."

"Why can't you just do it later, when the trip's over?" he asked, annoyed.

"Well, you see," I continued, as if trying to explain something very simple to a toddler, "as I told you before, Mr. Ellis, this potion is very touchy, and it needs to be dealt with at the very moment that the Sun is at its highest point on the day of every full moon of every month that it's brewing. That's the only way for it to turn out perfectly."

I chanced a glance at Kate. She had shoved her fist into her mouth to stop herself laughing. She knew what Duncan Ellis didn't know; that this whole spiel was complete and total bollocks. I should be getting a medal for this amazing improv.

"Well, I think – " Ellis started to say, before Kate cut him off.

"You know, Duncan, I really think I need to go deal with this Potion," she said, sliding out of the booth and putting on her coat. "Of course, I guess you wouldn't know, being holed up in the South Tower all the time…Arithmancy, was it?" She gave him a sarcastic little smile, then grabbed my arm in a vice-like grip and marched me out of the pub. We made it all the way to Honeydukes before she let go and turned to face me.

"Thank _Merlin _you got me out of that." She said, sounding relieved as she ran a hand over her face. "All he talked about was either how amazing the Ravenclaw Quidditch team was – "

"Must not have talked much then. They're horrible." I interrupted.

"Very funny." She added sarcastically. "Or he would brag about his "amazing new opportunity" for his "once-in-a-lifetime internship" or whatever the hell it was…Didn't ask me a single question except what I wanted for lunch. I think I may have talked twice. If that."

"You seem to have gotten him back nicely for it." I told her, smiling, "Did you see his face as we were walking out of the pub? Classic! That was a great comeback, that was."

She smirked as she said "Thank you very much. I'll be here all week." I laughed. "But I must say, I could barely keep myself from laughing when you were rambling on and on about the 'Sun's highest point on the day of the last full moon.'"

"Well, I think we both deserve reward for our incredible wit and skill at confusing Mr. Quidditch-Intern," I said, pointing down the road towards Honeydukes. "My treat."

Her gray eyes twinkled as she grabbed my arm again, pulling me toward the sweet shop. I got to spend the rest of the trip in Honeydukes with her, watching her run around in a frenzy to decide what she wanted to get. I found out that both our favorite candy was Fizzing Whizbees, and that we both love Chocolate Frog cards. I bought a large box of each, along with a bag of toffees for me and a large chunk of coconut ice for her.

We spent the rest of the day in our Common Room, eating Fizzing Whizbees and trading Chocolate Frog cards. I got two new ones, Circe and Morgana. We played one too many games of Exploding Snap, which resulted in the singeing off of the velvet lining on one of the arms of a squashy armchair.

We had so much fun.

Today definitely went better than I had expected.


	8. Dying Willpower

**A/N:**

**So, not as big of a delay this time, but still a substantial one. Sorry.**

**A few monumental events in my life have occurred in the past two and a half months, and they have been taking precedent over writing. I committed to college, I went to space camp, and I am getting recruited for college volleyball.**

**The beginning and middle of this chapter were okay to write, but the ending was a bitch. **

**Oh, and I have another story up now! It's a Harry Potter one, it's got two chapters up with more to come. It's just a series of one-shots following a number of the characters, in the present time and in next generation. It's called ****_Daughters and Sons._**** Check it out!**

***acgormy3**

****Chapter 8: Dying Willpower

Willpower has always been something I have prided myself in.

If I tell myself to do something, it gets done. No questions asked. I don't fight losing battles with myself.

First year, I told myself I was never going to get lost in the giant castle. I studied the map in _Hogwarts, A History_ relentlessly over the summer, and I never did. Not once.

Second year, after receiving a "P" on a Transfiguration essay, I told myself I would get at least an "E" on every piece of homework I turned in. Five years later, I have.

Fourth year, I told myself that only Duncan Ellis was allowed to be above me in class rank. Worked like a dog the entire year, and I actually ended up beating him.

Fifth year, I told myself that I would get at least an "A" on my Ancient Runes OWL. I studied day and night for three days straight, and ended up with an "E."

Sixth year, I told myself that I would always remain the only girl in the year to have resisted the charms of one James Potter. I'd been going strong for over three years, so it seemed easy enough.

But now, for the very first time in my young life, I was beginning to doubt my willpower. Specifically with the deal I had made with myself during my sixth year. At that time, James was still the arrogant toerag who had been making my life hell for the past three years. Now, however…

I'd been thinking a lot about my ever-changing relationship with him. As I had entered my seventh year, I'd been thinking I wouldn't be seeing much of him, except maybe in a few classes. I was Head Girl, had my own dormitory, and he wouldn't dare approach me in the corridors because he knew I could give him detention for his antics. But then he was made Head Boy, and that all went down the drain. I saw him 24/7; at meals, in the dormitory, on patrols, and in classes. Then Professor Pullman paired us up for the Potions project, and I thought I might shrivel up and die right there in the dungeons. Even after the shaky alliance we had made on the train and even though he'd been being nicer than usual, I still didn't trust him enough to a) not flirt with me the entire time and b) take the project seriously enough to get a good grade.

But after he discovered my stories, everything changed. He'd accepted a huge part of my life that I hadn't told anybody before. After that I felt like maybe there was a possibility that I could trust him. Maybe there was a possibility that I could let him in; take down my walls and make a new friend. And I did. It all happened rather quickly.

But that's all we were. Friends.

Sure, developments were made. I started calling him James, he asked me to write his dad's story, and oh-by-the-way, I had tingles shoot through my body every time he touched me.

Which brings me back to willpower.

It was slowly becoming a losing battle, what I had told myself a year ago. Losing battles are not something that I am used to. The willpower I have left berates me for wanting to feel those tingles more often, slaps me when I catch myself watching him as we walk patrols together, yells at me for not caring so much when he runs his fingers through his hair.

My willpower was becoming exponentially smaller, all because of one messy, raven haired boy.

It was cut in half when he discovered my stories and didn't tease me.

It was quartered when I felt none of my usual annoyance when he asked me if I wanted to grab a Butterbeer in Hogsmeade. It was so casual that I almost didn't feel anything. Just the tiniest of heart flutters.

It was eighthed when he saved me from my disastrous date with Duncan Ellis; when he took me to Honeydukes and bought me Fizzing Whizbees and Coconut Ice, and even gave me the Ptolemy Chocolate Frog card he got.

But I didn't want to ruin our easy friendship by fancying him. I couldn't do that, especially since it was obvious that he didn't fancy me anymore. That would be too cruel to him.

Seventh year, I told myself that I would continue to be friends with James, and that slowly, I could internally crush whatever attraction I had going for him. I knew I could do it.

* * *

I made that promise as I was lying in bed the night after the Hogsmeade trip. Since then, I had been going strong; my old willpower was back, and I knew that if I kept going for long enough, James would slowly be fall back to the image of just one of my good guy friends.

But yesterday, that all went to hell.

The day started out normal enough. I had finished showering and was in the middle of my usual bathroom routine. I had finished drying my hair and was starting on my makeup. I had opened the door to let the steam out from the shower, so I almost didn't notice as James ambled in. It was clear he was still half-asleep.

I knew this because 1) his eyes were half closed, 2) he kept yawning half heartedly, and 3)…

Number three is that he was clad only in a pair of camouflage boxer shorts. This would not have been happening if he was fully conscious.

My willpower was screaming at me to say something; a loaded comment, a witty retort, anything. But my vocal chords were obviously plotting against my recent promise, as were my eyes, both of which seemed to be content with raking down James' upper body.

I have never been so grateful for Quidditch in my entire life.

Because _damn,_ Quidditch had been good to him. As he ran the faucet, arms bracing himself against the sides of the sink, the muscles in his arms flexed and the ones in his back rippled. Looking in the mirror, I caught sight of a well-formed set of six-pack abs.

Holy Mother of Merlin.

I must have made some sort of small sound in my constricted throat, because James suddenly looked up at me. He had been half-smiling, but it dropped off his face when he took in my wide eyes, and where they were looking. When he looked down and took in his current state of undress, he swore loudly. His face turned tomato red, and I could feel heat pooling in my cheeks as well.

He looked up and met my eyes again. He didn't say anything, which was fine by me; inevitably it would have made things more awkward.

So I said the only sensible thing I could think of, which was "Um…well…I'll just be going now," before hurtling out of the bathroom as fast as I could go without him thinking I was running.

The fact that my makeup was only half finished was the last thing on my mind as I practically ran out of the Common Room and down the seventh floor corridor. I made it about half way down the corridor before I sat down on the plinth of a suit of armor and put my head in my hands.

Well.

So much for my resolve to squash whatever feelings I had for James. I had told myself that maybe I could ignore the tingles and attraction, but how could I keep telling myself that, given my reaction to seeing him half-naked? I couldn't.

Okay, fine. So I was physically attracted to James. But while I'll admit that he was good looking and that his personality wasn't as horrendous as it once was, there was no way in hell I could fancy him. It had been barely two months. You can't just go from hating someone's guts to fancying them in such a short amount of time.

But we could still be friends. Except maybe now my resolve could be revised to "stay friends with James and try not to think about how attractive he is." That could work, couldn't it?

No. It couldn't. I didn't even know what I was supposed to think anymore. I had no idea what to do, so I finally made up my mind. I would have to put aside my pride and I would get made fun of til kingdom come, but I would have to tell my friends.

Great.

* * *

My thinking on the plinth had taken a lot longer than I thought it had, so I ended up missing breakfast. Luckily we didn't have Potions that morning, because I didn't think I would have been able to look James in the eye the entire class. I had Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms, and luckily I either didn't have those classes with him or we sat on opposite sides of the room. I high tailed it out of Charms so that I could get to lunch so I could spill that morning's story to my friends.

I waited until Elle, Summer, and Grace were all present to start the story. I wanted all of their opinions, so while we were all tucking in to our shepherd's pie, I spilled the whole sordid story, starting with the Potions project and the tingles (leaving out the part about the stories), and finishing with this morning's episode.

"…so I guess what I'm trying to say is that I may be physically attracted to James." I finished.

Nobody said anything for a few seconds. Then…

"So that means I win! I had November!" Elle finally exclaimed, excitedly.

"Wait, what are you talking about?" I said, confused, as I looked around at the other two, who were wearing looks of defeat on their faces.

"I win the bet for when you'd finally say out loud that you fancied James!" She continued. "Five Galleons, you lot! Each!"

"Wait," I said, holding up my hands and trying to process all this. "You actually had a bet on this?"

"Well, yeah." Grace said, sulkily, handing her gold over to Elle. "It was only a matter of time, so we thought we'd have some fun with it."

"Hold up." I put my hand in front of Summer's before she could hand her gold to Elle. "I never said I fancied him! I just said I think he's good looking! That is not the same thing!"

"Well, you've said yourself that you're friends – " Elle began before I cut her off.

"You're my friend, that doesn't mean I fancy you."

"And you hang out with him all the time and you're doing well on that Potions project, so you can't think his personality is absolutely horrid anymore." She continued.

"That doesn't have anything to do with anything!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands in the air. "He doesn't like me like that anymore! He only asked me to Hogsmeade as a friend, and he's totally past that whole stalker stage! So you can give Grace her money back because I absolutely do _not _fancy James Potter!"

All of them looked exasperated with me, except for Grace, who held out her hand to Elle, who grudgingly handed the gold back to her.

"So, I guess that explains why you've only had makeup on one eye the entire day?" Summer said.

"_What?_" I pulled a small mirror out of my bag and almost shrieked. I had completely forgotten about my half-finished makeup.

This day was just getting better and better.

Not.


End file.
